“Dear Friends:—­I received through your committee, accompanied by Dr. Russ, your resolutions of the 13th of February, 1852, commendatory of my course while agent for Discharged Convicts.  My bodily indisposition has prevented an earlier acknowledgment.

“The kind, friendly, and affectionate manner in which you have been pleased to express yourselves on this occasion, excited emotions which I found it difficult to repress.  The approbation of those with whom I have long labored in a deeply interesting and arduous concern, I value next to the testimony of a good conscience.  Multiplied years and debility of body admonish me to retire from active life as much as may be, but my interest in the work has not abated.  Much has been done, and much remains to be done.

“In taking a retrospect of my intercourse with you, I am rejoiced to see that the great principles of humanity and Christian benevolence have risen above and overspread sectarian prejudice, that bane of Christianity, and while each has been allowed to enjoy his own religious opinions without interference from his fellows, we have labored harmoniously together for the promotion of the great object of our Association.

“May He who clothes the lilies, feeds the ravens, and provides for the sparrows, and without whose Providential regard, all our endeavors must be vain, bless your labors, and stimulate and encourage you to persevere, so that having, through His aid, fulfilled all your relative and social duties, you may in the end receive the welcome, ’Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:  for I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.’

  “That this may be our happy experience, is the fervent desire of
  your sincere and affectionate friend,

  “ISAAC T. HOPPER.

  “NEW-YORK, 4th mo. 15, 1852.”

Early in the Spring, he was conveyed to the house of his daughter, Mrs. Gibbons, in the upper part of the city; it being supposed that change of air and scene might prove beneficial.  It was afterward deemed imprudent to remove him.  His illness was attended with a good deal of physical suffering; but he was uniformly patient and cheerful.  He often observed, “There is no cloud.  There is nothing in my way.  Nothing troubles me.”  His daughters left all other duties, and devoted themselves exclusively to him.  Never were the declining hours of an old man watched over with more devoted affection.  Writing to his daughter Mary, he says:  “I have the best nurses in New-York, thy mother and sisters.  I have every comfort that industry and ingenuity can supply.”